


Wasting Time

by Lann_the_cleverest



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attempted Break Up, Blow Jobs, First Time, Foiled Plan, M/M, Pre-Series, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lann_the_cleverest/pseuds/Lann_the_cleverest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Kinkmeme request, for the prompt:<br/>'Tell me you don't love me.'<br/>'I don't love you.'<br/>'You're a liar.'</p><p> </p><p>Renly and Loras spent a night together, and now Renly has decided it has to end... if Loras will let him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasting Time

_This has to end. Loras is my squire,_ the Storm Lord thinks as he paces his solar after the night before. He hadn't realised...hadn't thought he would be Loras' first; the boy was always so cocky, so flirtatious, Renly just assumed he had experience, and that was how the rose knew he wanted this. He had never dreamed he was the first, not when he'd walked in the previous night and found Loras had laid himself out on Renly's bed, rose petals clipped from the plant Wilas had sent to the boy, the plant that was practically sacred to the squire, the only way he could cling to home in this place.

 

He'd cut the heads off it and scattered the petals about his sweet golden body, lain there for gods only knew how long while Renly was looking over letters with the Maester and the castellan until he'd retired and found...the sight he'd found had him growing hard even now, the boy had been so beautiful, so inviting. He'd spread his legs so Renly could crawl between them, and the lord had snaked up the squire’s body and kissed him; kisses that tasted sweeter than summer wine before he'd hitched his knees up and begged Renly to fuck him. And Renly...gods he had been so eager he'd jumped at the chance, and it had been magnificent.  
It was only the morning after when he'd sat up and plucked a red rose petal off the round of Loras' arse that he'd noticed a trickle of blood staining the sheets next to the bliss-filled boy. He wasn't that well-endowed that he caused that sort of thing with anyone except for a virgin. Renly's face had paled then as it dawned on him. "Loras..." he'd said, and the boy had looked where he was staring. "Oh Renly!" he'd laughed. "It's just my maiden's stain." before kissing him, elegant even when half asleep, and had curled down in the bed again, wrapped around the Storm Lord's hip as he sought out more rest.

 

This wasn't just a casual fuck like it had been with the stable boy, or the sell-sword in the village he'd stayed in on the way to Highgarden to collect his squire. This meant something to the boy Renly had found in his bed. But it was wrong, so wrong. He was sure that if this sort of thing was spoken of at all, there would definitely be a rule against fucking your squire - the boy depended on him, for home, for family, companionship, advancement to knighthood, to manhood. I'm taking advantage, Renly thought and it sickened him. I have to tell him never again.

 

The thought hurt his heart though, as he toyed with the rose petal in his hand. Hadn't his thoughts, his dreams, his fantasies been filled with Loras since that first time the boy had crawled into bed with him, lonely for home, for brothers who used to tell him stories - Wilas who taught him about stars and flowers that he knew so well, Garlan who talked about women and wars despite having experience with neither. He'd woken after that first night of sharing a bed to find Loras tucked under his arm, cheeks rosy and lips parted so prettily that Renly had wanted to kiss him then and there, and had taken a very long cold dip in Shipbreaker Bay to avoid doing so. He hadn't kissed him, but it had been the start of his obsession, his addiction to the most beautiful rose that had ever bloomed in the Reach or anywhere else for that matter.

 

But now it had to end. He was taking advantage. Suddenly the door burst open and the older boy was ripped from his thoughts as Loras burst in, cheeks flushed from running, panting...panting like he had been the night before. Renly shook his head, raven curls battering his face as he tried to stop thinking of that, tried to turn his mind to what he needed to do.

 

"Gods, Renly, you look so severe, I almost took you for your brother!" Loras laughed, that beautiful lyrical laugh that sounded more beautiful than any instrument, even more beautiful than the remembered refrains of mother's high harp from his very early childhood, before the storm had taken her. There was pain in his eyes as deep as an ocean when Renly looked up at the boy.  “What’s wrong, love?” Loras asked, noticing instantly, moving close, almost close enough to take the older boy in his arms, to give him comfort; before Renly moved back, as though they were only dancing, rather than parting.

 

“No…” he said, voice a whispered and pathetic excuse for a thing. He tried again, owing the boy more than that. “Loras…we can’t…we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

 

The younger boy’s pretty face contorted sharply. “What?” he demanded, and almost all the sweetness was gone from his voice, sharp as a thorn rather than a bloom. His hand went to his hip and he simply shook his head, “No.”

 

Renly had prepared for tears, prepared for heartache and begging, but not for this, and he looked quizzically at his squire who was acting more lord than underling. “What do you mean, no? I am your lord, Tyrell. You will do as I say, and I say we are done with this. It isn’t right, taking advantage like this. You’re my ward, my responsibility – I shouldn’t be taking you to my bed like my brother would take some cheap little Sally from the brothels.”

 

Loras had a face like thunder.  “How dare you!” he growled.  “I _gave_ myself to you, and you call me cheap?  You call me a whore?  How DARE you, _my lord,_ ” he spat, the title mocking in the extreme.

 

Renly blinked in surprise.  Again, this was not what he had expected at all.  “I wasn’t calling you a whore!” he replied, scandalized.  “I was saying… Loras, you’re my squire.  It can’t be right.  It can’t be, not just because we are men, but you’re my squire and…”

 

“Oh yes, I’m your bloody squire,” Loras spat back, all rebellion and teenage rage that made Renly wonder how his castellan had been able to stand him at that age (though he was not much older now).  “I’m your fucking squire and you’re supposed to be teaching me things, but it was bloody well me that seduced you after months of you making eyes at me.  Months, Renly, of climbing into your bed as though I was eleven again, instead of four and ten and almost a man grown.  Months of trying to coax you to have me…before…before it’s too late,” he gave in, and his voice cracked. 

 

The older boy looked shocked as Loras made to cry, and he wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but Loras’ eyes were full of jagged glass and he knew any physical comfort he offered now would be shot down, no matter how welcome it might be.  “What do you mean, too late?” he asked carefully.

 

The squire shot him another scathing look and sank down on the edge of the bed they had lost themselves in the night before.  “Don’t be so stupid.  You know perfectly well.  When I gain my knighthood, I’m going to have to leave here…to leave _you_ , Renly.  And it will happen soon, I’m good enough now, good enough to win melees – I could win the joust if it was against the right men.  You keep entering me for so many of the damn things, it’s not as though I am not gaining the practice against the men I will need to floor to win my spurs.  I know it’s because you like to watch me ride, but it hasn’t even occurred to you that when I finally win the joust, then you’ll have to knight me and I’ll have to go.  You’ve wasted time, my lord.  So much time.  There is none left to waste, I had to act.  It is my choice, and I choose you.  Not for glory, I can win that off my own back, or for favours – you were giving me those on the strength of a smile by the time I was twelve.”  He grinned fondly at the memory, despite his melancholy, and the smile lit up Renly’s heart like one of the bonfires that had marked his eighteenth name day.  “I did this for love,” the youth finished, looking hesitant to admit something so personal, even though he had been ranting at length for some time now.

 

 

Renly had made up his mind when he heard the tone Loras was speaking in.  There was only one thing left to do.  He crossed the space between them and sank to his knees at Loras’ feet.  “Then let’s not waste time, my rose,” he said softly, blue eyes as large as a doe’s as he cupped Loras’ cheek before setting to his task.

 

He deftly unlaced Loras’ breeches with one hand, the soft buck-skin separating under his fingers to find the younger man rapidly hardening within.  They had not paid much attention to Loras’ prick the night before, his arse receiving the majority of both their attentions, with tongue and touch and cock, and he had come once and again from Renly’s fingers alone, and a third time screaming his pleasure into the pillow as Renly lost himself inside his lover.  But tonight it was time for Renly to learn this body as well as he knew his own.  And so he dipped his head, and wrapped his lips about the head of Loras’ cock.

 

The Tyrell boy made a beautiful noise; everything about him elegant and beautiful, even during fucking, in a way that Renly was certain was magic passed down by the Seven themselves, just to Loras Tyrell – the most beautiful boy in all the world, made by their hands, just for him.  The Storm Lord hollowed his cheeks and sank down the length of Loras’ cock until he could take no more, and wrapped the last inch with his hand.  It was not gargantuan or grotesque the way he had once seen his brother Robert’s was when they had been in a bath-house together, and Renly was much glad.  It was elegant, wondrously so, and he took it in willingly, as Loras’ hand cradled his head, fingers threading in his hair.  “Oh Renly, my Renly,” he purred and panted. 

 

Renly hollowed his cheeks and moved down and down again until he felt Loras at his tonsils as well as his lips.  He almost gagged, but held it back, and moved a hand to cup Loras’ balls.  As he did, Loras let out another lyrical moan and Renly felt his lover’s balls tense in his hand as the younger boy raced toward his peak.  “Renly…” Loras moaned, and it was a warning, he knew by the way the boy was thrusting into his mouth with increasing wildness.  Renly nodded, but stood his ground, and soon enough Loras coated the back of his throat with seed, the Storm Lord swallowing it down as an act of devotion.

 

When Loras had softened in his mouth, and all of the seed was gone, Renly climbed back onto the bed at his side.  Loras had flopped back in all of the exhaustion that a youth’s orgasm came with, and so Renly took him into his arms.  “I won’t waste any more time, my Loras,” he vowed.  “But whatever time I have, I will happily spend with you.  And if you wish to stay by my side when you have been knighted, then you will stay and be my sworn sword,” he explained.  “Then we shall have all the time there is.”  He kissed the boy’s brow and Loras grinned dopily, half asleep.  “Why, my Renly.  When you put it like that, we will have a lifetime to waste together,” he declared, grinning like a fool in love.


End file.
